


Boots

by Angelica_writes



Series: Imagines [19]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Canon Era, Comfort, Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, F/M, Fluff, WWII, World War Two, suggestive ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelica_writes/pseuds/Angelica_writes
Summary: You have to cheer Joe up when he's grumpy.
Relationships: Joe Toye/Reader, Joe Toye/You, Joseph Toye/Reader, Joseph Toye/You
Series: Imagines [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999741
Kudos: 6





	Boots

You knew as soon as Joe crashed into your foxhole that he was in a foul mood. His eyes were even darker than usual, his lips were pursed slightly, his muscles tense. You wondered what it was this time that had got him so pent up, and then you noticed that he wasn’t wearing any boots. The temperature is this god forsaken Belgian forest was well below zero, and all Joe had to protect his feet was a pair of thin socks.

“Joe, where the hell are your boots?” you pulled him towards you and rubbed his feet, trying in vain to warm them up. 

“In Washington, up General Taylor’s ass,” he retorted, glaring at his frozen feet. You rolled your eyes at him, refusing to stop trying to warm his feet up when he attempted to pull them away. 

“Joseph Toye I’m gonna keep on trying to warm you up if it’s the last thing I do.” Now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“You know if you succeed in warming me up, I’ll just find something else to be grumpy about,” Joe managed a little smile, in spite of himself. Although he wanted to rage and curse, he knew that him being happier would in turn make you happy, which is what he wanted more than anything else. 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you smiled back, enjoying seeing the warmth returning to his face, and the smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. “It can’t just be the cold that’s got you so grumpy though, there have been colder days than this in the past week.” 

“There’s nothing,” he replied, but you knew that he was lying because his smile had vanished. 

“Joe,” you replied sternly, raising your eyebrows at him. Not much scared Joe, but he always withered under your unimpressed look. 

“I lost a damn bet to Bill, I owe the fucker fifty bucks,” he growled, and you could see his muscles tense again. 

“What did you bet on?” you ask, puzzled as it was hardly as though they were visiting the pub every evening for a game of darts. 

“I bet that we’d have smashed through the German line by now,” Joe huffed. 

“Well, you’re an idiot,” you smiled at him, still rubbing his icy feet. “But I love you anyway.” 

“You can stop now, they’re warmer,” his voice was gentle now, the complete opposite to what it had been just a few minutes ago. He pulled his feet away from you, and took you in his arms. 

“Are you sure, Joe?” you asked, worried that he was saying that just to make you feel better. 

“Yeah I’m sure. Haven’t I always said you’ve got magic hands,” he winked at you and you giggled. Despite still not properly being able to feel his feet, Joe laughed with you. Although the bitter cold nipped at his skin and artillery sounded in the distance, he was content with you in his arms.


End file.
